


Aftershocks

by sidewinder



Category: Brimstone
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:18:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short follow-up to the events in the story "Earthbound".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

> At one point I'd definitely intended to continue this series further, but ten years on I seriously doubt that's ever going to happen.
> 
> Disclaimer: The following story is written entirely for fun and not for any profit. No attempt is made to supersede or infringe upon the copyrights held by any television or film companies upon which this story is based.

Lucifer stretched, and then curled back into the warmth that surrounded him. Such wonderful heat-- warmer than he'd known in what seemed like ages, so soft and soothing compared to the blistering, savage heat of Hell. As he slipped more completely into a wakeful state, he realized that the heat surrounding him had a name.

Ezekiel.

Lucifer's eyes snapped open. He didn't move, fearful of disturbing anything until he'd taken the time to appreciate his current state, note the details, and commit it as best as he could to his irritatingly weak human memory. He didn't want Ezekiel to awaken yet, not before he'd had time to hold on to this moment and the events of the night before, which now flooded his memory.

Not that he particularly wished to remember certain parts of it, such as the terrible helplessness that had filled him when Joseph Holland had nearly ended his now mortal life. Nor did he care to think back on losing control of himself in Zeke's presence, letting his servant see his current weaknesses, fears, and desires. But then, he did want to remember Ezekiel's touch, his kisses, the feeling of lying naked and entwined with him in this bed.

Was it worth losing everything? he wondered, but then he pushed the question aside. Why let it ruin his day? After all, his current condition was only temporary-- or so he desperately hoped. To even consider the alternative was...

No. He didn't care to follow that line of thought. This mortal shell disgusted him with its endless demands for feeding, cleaning, eliminating. His human senses were so imperfect, so restricted to the tangible, physical world that at times it nearly drove him mad. He was truly in his own personal Hell, stuck here on Earth in this prison of a mortal man's body. Only Zeke's presence rendered the situation bearable and gave him something, someone, to hold on to.

Yes, at least he had Zeke. And after last night, he felt a step closer to having him as he truly desired, heart as well as soul.

Perhaps. Too soon to tell.

Lucifer sensed Zeke was now waking up as well. He disentangled himself from Zeke's embrace to lie next to him and watch his reactions as he drifted into consciousness. Zeke's eyes opened, and after a moment he turned to look at Lucifer. He didn't seem surprised at finding himself in bed with the devil, but beyond that Lucifer could not interpret his expression.

"Good morning," Lucifer said.

Zeke reached for the alarm clock on the dresser. "More like afternoon," he corrected after putting the clock back.

"That late?"

"We didn't get to sleep until dawn."

"That's true," Lucifer recalled, and then tried to come up with something pithy or witty to say. He failed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, Zeke simply lying there, staring at the ceiling tiles while Lucifer watched and waited, annoyed that he couldn't read the man's thoughts like he used to. He held back from the things he most wanted to do at that moment-- like touching Zeke, moving back into the warmth of the man's arms, doing the things been leery of last night, for fear of pushing Zeke too hard. Lucifer wanted it all, terribly, but his pride held him back. He was not going to appear desperate, and he _wasn't_ desperate. Not really. He simply...didn't care to feel so cut off and alone, the way Ezekiel's silence was making him feel at that moment.

Zeke suddenly got up from bed and grabbed his clothes, then went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. A few minutes of silence passed, then Lucifer heard the shower go on.

The water ran for a long time. Five minutes, ten minutes...nearly twenty minutes passed before the water went off. Lucifer stayed where he was the whole time, laid there in bed and waited. Maybe Zeke just needed some time to think. They would talk once he got out of the shower.

Zeke finally emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later. He was fully dressed and looked ready to head out the door.

"Going somewhere?"

Zeke seemed startled by the question. "Yeah, I, uh...wanted to check on a lead I had, on another demon."

An obvious lie, one that Lucifer needed none of his former angelic senses to detect. He was tempted to push it, to ask to come along and then watch Zeke squirm as he tried to come up with an answer or some excuse. Instead he decided to stay quiet and let Zeke run out and get away, as was clearly his intention Obviously, he wasn't ready to talk about last night or even acknowledge what had happened.

Zeke took a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and left it on the nightstand. "In case you need it. Try not to spend it all, though. We need to put some aside for next week's rent. I'll be back later."

"Right," Lucifer answered, and Zeke was gone before he could say anything more.

"Mortals," he spat out.

"Lest you forget, you're now one of them yourself."

Lucifer looked, and grimaced at the sight of his sibling standing at the window, bathed in white light. "Oh, how I'd love to be able to forget, brother, if only for one _fraction_ of a moment. What are you doing here? Zeke's already gone, and you're _his_ guardian, not mine."

"Even so, I wanted to check in on you."

"Why, so that you can report back home about the pathetic state I'm in?"

"Because you're still my brother, and I worry about you. Besides, what happens to you affects Ezekiel, therefore," he paused to spread his arms with a flourish, "here I am!"

"Well, you've checked in, now fuck off."

The angel was undeterred. "He's confused and needs some time to sort out what's happened, what he's feeling, but he won't abandon you. That's what you're afraid of, isn't it?"

Sourly, Lucifer answered, "You can read my thoughts now, so you tell me."

"If you really want his love, Morning Star, you're going to have to--"

"Don't tell me what to do. I will do things my way."

"Yes, you always have insisted on that, haven't you?"

Lucifer glared at his brother. It was disorienting, seeing him as mortals did, seeing only the reflection of the same physical form he himself now wore. Lucifer's anger lessened slightly, replaced by the desperate confusion and sense of loss that had filled him since his fall to Earth. "I am who I am. It's true, Ezekiel is the only thing--the only being--who has made me feel any real happiness since...I don't have to say when. I want his love more than you could ever understand."

"Of course I can."

"No, you can't. Only if you've been denied His love as long as I have could you begin to understand. But even so, Ezekiel has to come to accept me as I am, or not at all. I will not change for anyone."

The angel shook his head and smiled, walking toward him, kneeling before the bed. "Don't you see how much you have changed already?"

Angry, Lucifer got up from the bed and walked past the angel, not wanting to look at him, and his eyes, those mirrored but so much happier versions of his own. He went to the window and looked out on the street below.

"I'm only telling you not to stop now. Be ready, embrace the change! Let him in. As much as you can help him, he can help you as well--in ways you seem unwilling to consider."

"What are you talking about?" Lucifer asked. When there was no response, he turned around--and realized he was alone.

He sighed in annoyance. No wonder Ezekiel always got pissy when he himself pulled that disappearing act. He turned away from the window and stared around the depressing little room, wondering what he was going to do with himself for the rest of the day.

* * *

Zeke decided to walk instead of taking the car. He didn't want to waste the gas, and besides that, he didn't have anywhere in particular to go. He simply needed to walk, to try to clear his head, to have some time alone to think about things--big things, troubling things, and most especially things like how he'd ended up in bed with the devil last night.

He left the boarding house's disreputable neighborhood behind and slowly moved downtown. The afternoon rush hour was almost upon the city, and the streets were filled with men and women in business suits heading home or swarming into the upscale boutiques and shopping centers. Zeke had a craving to eat something- -a greasy double cheeseburger, with big, salty kosher pickles and an icy chocolate milkshake sounded just wonderful--but he tried not to think about it too much. He couldn't afford to be extravagant these days. He indulged in eating much less frequently, now that a significant portion of his money had to go toward keeping Lucifer fed, as _he_ was the one whose body actually required food to function.

If they were going to stay in San Francisco for a while, Zeke was seriously debating unloading their car and seeing what kind of cash he could get for it. The money might be enough to relieve their financial crunch for at least a few weeks, until Zeke could come up with some other plans. Of course all of this would be unnecessary should the devil regain his powers, but that could just as easily happen tomorrow as never at all. Neither of them had any idea. Getting Lucifer to look for some form of employment was out of the question; not only did the devil bristle at the mere joking suggestion, but he had no ID, no papers, no history, nothing. Zeke knew with a little money they could get suitable fakes and forgeries made up, but...

He sighed. None of these issues were as critical a concern as the one he was quite studiously avoiding, he fully realized. Before anything else, he had to deal with last night. He couldn't deny what had happened: he'd slept with the devil. He understood why it had happened, and why it had felt like the right-- the only--thing to do at the time. He'd even enjoyed feeling wanted and loved like that. He'd needed it,

perhaps almost as much as Lucifer had.

But that was last night--or this morning, or whenever it had all happened. Now, though...now he didn't know what to think about any of it. He had no idea what he was supposed to do next, nor what he wanted to do, and it wasn't as if it had been a one-night stand where he could just get up, leave, and never think about it again. He'd have to go back to that room at some point and deal with Lucifer, and with where they were going with this (dare he think the word) relationship.

"Yes, it's quite a fine little mess you've gotten yourself into, isn't it, Mr. Stone?"

Zeke was almost--almost--getting used to these unexpected angelic drop-ins, though he still shuddered a little at finding Hell's new ruler keeping pace with him, brushing against his left shoulder as they walked side by side. "Playing house with the devil... You're not really letting that sniveling loser get to you, are you? Going soft for his--" the fallen angel sniffed dramatically and choked out-- "'I'm afraid! Oh, woe is me!' sob story, are you?"

"I'm still doing my job. I got Holland, didn't I? No help from you."

"Not my job to help you. Just as it isn't yours to go fucking around all lovey-lovey with _him_."

"You're as one-note as he used to be, you know that? Don't any of you guys have anything better to do than bug me, saying the same things over and over again? 'Catch the demons, blah blah blah. Don't expect my help, blah blah blah.'"

"All right, here's something you haven't heard before. Let's talk about your bonus, should you decide you've had enough of your new little playmate and kill him, as I suggested."

"I'm not going to--"

"Rosalyn."

Zeke stopped walking. He turned to face his grinning companion and demanded, "What about her?"

"He was only going to give you back your mortality, drop you here to pick up the pieces and try to explain to your beloved how you're suddenly alive after having your face blown off fifteen years ago. I can give you something much better than that. I can give you your _life_ back, as if none of that had ever happened. As if Gilbert Jax had never come to your house and raped Rosalyn, as if you'd simply lived all these years since then together in sickeningly blissful happiness."

"How?"

"Not so difficult, really. And it could all be yours, Mr. Stone, for such an...insignificant price."

Cold-blooded murder was insignificant? "No." Zeke shook his head.

"Think about it; don't be so quick to dismiss the possibility. The offer will stand indefinitely--or at least until I find someone else I can persuade to get the job done." He stepped closer. "Because, Ezekiel, I will see to it that Morning Star's mortal existence is brief, one way or another."

"Why is that so important to you?"

"I have my reasons. I've only been generous in giving you the first opportunity to earn my favor with this task. Don't think that I won't be able to find someone else here on Earth much easier to sway than you."

Zeke didn't step back or flinch. He just held the fallen angel's gaze as coolly as he could. "The rest of the escaped souls," he said quietly, changing the subject. "Are there any more in San Francisco?"

He noted a flicker of disappointment in the fallen angel's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by contempt. "You're on your own. I told you before I'm not going to spoon-feed you that information. Show me what kind of hunter's instincts you really have."

"Why can't you just--" Zeke was bumped by a pedestrian hurrying by. In that blink of an eye, the angel was gone.

"--leave him alone," Zeke trailed off, knowing it was pointless. He wasn't about to get any answers.

* * *

Zeke returned to the boarding house about eight that evening, having accomplished little except brooding. Lucifer lay sprawled out on his bed, scribbling away furiously on a yellow note pad, the TV on low in the background.

"Any luck with that lead of yours?" Lucifer asked.

"What? Oh, no." Zeke stepped closer and looked at the pages of filled notepaper. Lucifer appeared to have been at it for hours. Papers were scattered all over the bed, the floor, filled with notations in various languages, some that Zeke recognized, others that he could only guess at. "What's all of this?" he asked.

"History. Memories. Knowledge. Things I..." Lucifer stopped short, tapping his pen on the paper furiously for a moment, "...don't want to forget. I already seem to have forgotten so much."

On one sheet, Zeke recognized angelic script, similar to the words that were written on his own flesh. In fact he recognized some of those words exactly. He picked up that paper and asked, "Notes on the rest of my quarry?"

Lucifer nodded. "What I can recall easily for now. This won't be of much use to you until I can fill in more details--and of course, until I can translate them for you. It was simply fastest for me to use my native language...for as long as I can even remember _that_."

Zeke put down the piece of paper, still somewhat surprised by what he was seeing. Lucifer was going to really help him with his hunt? No more annoyingly cryptic clues, but outright _facts_? Zeke had to breathe a sigh of relief at that, especially as his new boss seemed determined to leave him completely up to his own devices. "Thank you."

"Yes, well, prolonging your hunt seems like a rather trivial amusement right now. I have other things to worry about."

Zeke wondered if Lucifer knew just how right he was. He sat down on the empty bed, next to Lucifer's, debating whether he should say anything about his visitor today or not. He decided Lucifer had the right to know. "Your replacement came to see me again today."

"Did he now."

"It's the second time he's come to see me in the last two days." Lucifer looked up at that information. "He wants me to kill you."

Lucifer revealed no surprise or fear. He waited silently for Zeke to continue. "He offered me a 'bonus' if I did. Said if I didn't, he'd look for someone else to do it."

"Hmm." Lucifer twirled his pen. "Seems we both have someone after our necks now--well, my neck, your eyes."

"Want to know what he offered me?"

"Not really. That's between you two, your deal to make or refuse."

"You don't think I was actually considering it, do you?"

"I'm sure it was a dandy of an offer, Ezekiel. Don't tell me you weren't tempted, even for just a second."

"I...yeah. For a second. But I won't do it. I don't even get why killing you is such a big deal to him. He's already got your job, your old power."

"True, but right now he doesn't any power over _me_ , which is what he wants. Power, and revenge. All of them, who followed me with such certainty thousands of years ago when we rebelled against God, they all want it. Their rage against Him slowly festered and turned into rage against me--after all, I was the first to speak of what we were all feeling. That makes me the one to blame for all of their misery, even if they themselves made the choice to follow me.

"He wants me dead, Ezekiel, because my now-mortal but unrepentant soul would no doubt be destined to fall into his control. I'm sure they're all salivating over what they'll do to it, given the chance."

"You sound pretty calm about this."

"The devil has very few friends, Ezekiel, even in Hell--or perhaps, especially in Hell. I never expected great loyalty or support from any of my fallen brothers."

Lucifer fell silent and pensive, eventually going back to writing. Zeke stood up and paced the room, his head too full to just relax and sit around. "Did you eat anything today? We could go out, or I could get something."

"I think I forgot to eat, actually. Got caught up in other things." Lucifer indicated the papers, then frowned. "Now that you mention it, I suppose I am rather famished. And it wouldn't hurt to get out of this..." Lucifer looked around their miserable apartment.

"Hellhole?" Zeke supplied.

"...for a while, yes."

"Let's go then." Zeke picked up the twenty-dollar bill, which was still where he'd left it that morning. Frugality be damned, they were going to get something decent to eat tonight. They deserved it.

* * *

They rode the bus to Chinatown and filled up on pork buns, sesame noodles and egg rolls at an obscenely cheap dim sum house. All the while they avoided discussing anything deeper than what was in the day's newspapers, which they looked through for signs of demonic activity.

Zeke couldn't deny a palpable shift in the mood between them--in a way more relaxed and open, though by no means was all the tension gone. Instead there was an new tension borne from occasional prolonged silences and questioning glances, from waiting to see who would be the first to dare mention the events of the night before.

They were lingering over hot tea and orange slices when Lucifer finally brought up the inevitable. "We're going to have to talk about last night at some point, Ezekiel," he began lightly, with a small quirk of a smile to break the tension.

"I know."

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

"I'm glad." Lucifer sipped his tea, regarding Zeke closely. "But I gather you're not particularly keen on the idea of letting it happen again."

"I don't know."

"You're torn up inside. You wanted it, last night, but now you feel guilty. You feel as though you've betrayed Rosalyn."

"Can we keep her out of this?"

"Only if you can. Can you?" Lucifer regarded him with a steady, unblinking gaze. "Can you ever let go of this impossible fantasy of yours about reuniting with her, and accept that you might--just might--be able to find happiness with someone else?"

"Oh, and since when have you cared about anyone's happiness..."

"You know when. You are the exception to my every rule, Ezekiel."

Zeke had no easy response. Lucifer saved him by suddenly switching gears, reaching for the fortune cookies resting on top of their bill. He broke one open and read the tiny slip of paper aloud. "'You are generous and always think first of others.'"

"Give me that. Must have been mine," Zeke objected, reading the fortune to make sure Lucifer wasn't joking around. He opened the second cookie. "Here, you see? This one's definitely yours. 'Your future is ready for a new opportunity. Be open to your new offer and it will bring you success.'"

"I'm not going to debate the proclamations of baked goods, detective. Are we done here?"

"Yeah."

"Let's walk back, shall we? I could use the air."

* * *

The greasy Chinese food was now sitting like a rock in his stomach, but Lucifer kept any complaints to himself. Silence was easier. It gave him time to think, too, to go over the things he'd written down earlier and try to make a mental list of what he had to put down tomorrow, before he forgot. So many things were already beyond his recollection, now--secrets of men, of angels, the words and music of his brothers that until his fall to Earth had been clear in his mind down to every detail, but were now as foggy and incomprehensible as mortal dreams.

He wasn't certain why he'd felt so compelled to begin writing, but after the news about his fallen brother's intentions, Lucifer felt doubly encouraged to continue. If something _were_ to happen to him...he just wanted there to be some kind of a record. His side of the story, as it was, the truth as he had seen things.

He'd tried to keep a calm face about Ezekiel's news, even while it added a new fear to those already twisting him up inside. What had Zeke been offered in exchange for his death? He knew it had to involve Rosalyn, for she was Ezekiel's weakness. Still, he did not fear death by Ezekiel's hands. He trusted Zeke, far more than he knew he should trust anyone. It was the weakness of his love.

He feared that another would take up the hunt, though, and come after his life. Perhaps he deserved whatever fate would meet him should he die while stuck in this weak mortal body. But he was stubborn--more than anything, because of Ezekiel, and his hope that one day he could win Zeke's heart as well as his soul. A small and foolish hope, but he clung to it, now, for he had nothing else.

The night air was cool, but not unbearable. The copious amounts of tea he'd consumed had warmed him as much as possible for the walk home. His face itched-- he hadn't remembered to shave this morning, a mortal maintenance chore he hated, but not as much as the feeling of those coarse hairs growing out of his chin. Not that he had any complaints about Ezekiel's eternal five o'clock shadow and the way it had tickled and scratched against his body last night, leaving the tender skin of his throat deliciously raw and sore...

Lucifer tried to push those thoughts aside. No wonder mortals could be so easily manipulated by their passions, he thought miserably, an aching heat already building in his groin. Simply thinking about Ezekiel in that way was enough to make him hard, desperate for that small release of a mortal orgasm.

Pathetic. He would never get used to this, never.

Eventually they made it back to the boarding house. Their floor was quiet, except for the TV blaring loudly from one of their neighbor's rooms. Lucifer unlocked the door to their room, let Zeke enter, then flicked the light switch on and pulled the door shut behind them. He made sure the security bolt was thrown and the room locked--not that such measures would stop a demon if one were to come looking for either of them, but it was still a prudent precaution.

Lucifer turned away from the door and was startled by Zeke still standing there, right in front of him.

"Is something--" He was going to say "wrong" but Zeke was on him, kissing him, pushing him up against the door with enough force to take his breath away, hard enough that for a moment his sight was filled with stars.

Or maybe it was Zeke's kiss making his vision go funny, for it certainly was doing other things to him. After a long, confused moment he regained his balance and his senses enough to respond and meet Zeke's forcefulness with his own. He clutched at the man's body, held it close while Zeke kissed him. His lips tasted of oranges and sweet spices, and his probing tongue spread that taste all over Lucifer's mouth.

What had suddenly gotten into Zeke? Lucifer couldn't reconcile this sudden demanding passion with Zeke's doubt and hesitation earlier. But he didn't want to stop and ask him why, not now. He didn't want to do anything but lose himself in the inhuman heat of Zeke's body, to feel those hands pawing at him, bruising him with their force, and those lips...

"Uh!" Lucifer gasped and jerked his head back, slamming it against the door. The pain stunned him but not as much as Zeke's hand had, suddenly down _there_ , rubbing against his crotch, rubbing _hard_. And the look in his eyes, now--demon eyes, bright red with fire, enough to make Lucifer shiver. For a moment he saw Joseph Holland's eyes, burning with that same fire the night before and panic made Lucifer start to struggle, desperate to escape. But then the fire was gone, in a flash, as quick as it had appeared. Zeke was back in control. His touch softened as his eyes revealed that tender humanity that was so very, very...

Zeke.

Lucifer hated what those eyes could do to him. Something inside him broke every time he looked into them for too long. He wanted to turn away but he couldn't, he was mesmerized. He knew it was love doing this to him, breaking walls inside him that he'd built up for thousands of years only to watch them crumble under the gaze of those eyes.

He turned his head, at last, turned and shut his eyes, trying to reign in his own self-control. But then Zeke's mouth pressed against his exposed neck, wet lips moving, sucking, his tongue leaving a moist, warm trail. Zeke's one hand soon joined the other, now at his waist, unbuttoning the top of Lucifer's pants, pushing them down over his hips. Then they were tugging at his underwear, and then...oh, yes.

Yes, yes, yes.

Lucifer groaned. Zeke's hand was on him now--Zeke, _his_ Zeke, touching him there. Fuck it felt good, like electricity rippling over his skin, pumping through his blood, surging and demanding to shoot out through his cock. Certainly these human bodies were limited, but there was something to be said for the simple, base pleasures they could provide. Friction and coursing blood, sweat and saliva, rough groping and heavy breathing. So dirty and foul and so wonderful.

Zeke's hand was gone. Lucifer whimpered in frustration, but then let out a strangled cry as Zeke dropped to his knees and took his cock into his mouth.

"Fuck!"

That was the most coherent thing Lucifer managed in response. It wasn't that Zeke was so very skillful--in fact, he was clearly inexperienced and struggling to accommodate Lucifer's thick erection. The devil had ordered thousands to their knees before him, but none of them-- _none_ of the others had mattered. Not like Zeke did. None of them, not even any of the greatest kings or queens in human history had made him shudder just from the _sight_ of them, there, doing anything to please him.

He could barely stand to look down, the sight almost too much for him to bear. He clenched his hands in Zeke's short hair and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of those lips creating such delicious, wet friction, and then that tongue, licking him, swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. Lucifer wanted to come all over those lips, all over Ezekiel's beautiful face. Just the mental image forming in his mind was enough to shatter his control, to push him over the edge before he barely realized he was close to it. But it was too late to slow down now, too late to turn back as he started to shudder, muscles convulsing and blood rushing and then he was coming-- into Zeke's mouth, on the man's lips and chin as Zeke started to pull back. Zeke used his hand to finish him off, stroking Lucifer until he stopped shaking, until the last drops of come had been coaxed from his cock.

Lucifer, still shaking and gasping for breath, pulled Zeke's head back and admired, watching as Zeke licked his swollen, wet lips. Beautiful. So perfectly depraved, as mortals always pleased him best. And now he, Lucifer, once the most glorious of God's creations, was no better. Just another depraved, disgusting, foul human.

Well. If so, he supposed he should wallow in his depravity, shouldn't he? Wasn't that what he'd always encouraged mortals to do? Lucifer dropped to his own knees before Ezekiel and leaned in, running his tongue up Zeke's chin, to the corner of his mouth, tasting the salty slick remnants of his orgasm, cleaning up the mess he'd made. He licked and kissed him all over his chin, his neck, and soon Zeke was clearly eager for more, for his own satisfaction.

"Get in bed," Lucifer urged.

Zeke complied, standing up and moving toward the bed, undressing quickly as he did so. Lucifer watched, approving as Zeke stripped naked before lying on top of the bed. Lucifer got up, then, kicking off his shoes and the pants that had been pooled around his ankles. He walked to the bed and stood there, his eyes moving over the pattern of writing that marked Zeke's body.

"Admiring your artistry?" Zeke asked, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the room.

Lucifer nodded, then added, "And the canvas upon which I worked." Ezekiel's body was not perfect, not bulky nor particularly thin and lean. He was muscled, but still a little soft in the shoulders and waist. His chest, arms and legs were dusted with sandy-colored hair, but not thick with it. His erect cock was not the grandest Lucifer had ever beheld, but it was more than satisfactory, well-proportioned and quite tempting. On all accounts, Lucifer approved. He had no particular use for too-perfect creations--after all, human imperfections had always intrigued him so much more.

Lucifer undid the buttons on his shirt and tossed it to the floor, feeling Zeke's eyes on him as he did so. Lucifer was far from comfortable with this human body in which he was stuck, but it seemed to please Zeke well enough. It should, since it was Zeke's own perceptions and imagination which had shaped it. Humans' senses could not fully comprehend the true form of a celestial being, so their minds would create one as best as they could, drawing upon subconscious thoughts and desires to reflect the nature of the angelic creature before them. That was why Lucifer had worn so many faces and forms throughout human history, from a horrific cloven-foot, horned monster to a sharp-dressed businessman with a shark's smile.

To Zeke's mind, Lucifer had appeared as he stood now, with the taunting smile of a grade school adversary and an angular face that was a little too gaunt to be handsome, yet still was oddly compelling, vaguely reminiscent of a rock star Zeke had followed--perhaps crushed on--in his more youthful days. The slim, tall, but muscular body was apparently quite appealing to Ezekiel, given the way his eyes took in the sight of it with such attention and desire. Lucifer supposed he had to thank Ezekiel for having envisioned him being so well-endowed--a symbol perhaps, of some suppressed homosexual tendencies on Zeke's part.

Not that they were particularly suppressed any longer.

Lucifer climbed onto the bed, on top of Zeke, savoring that delicious moment of flesh meeting flesh. Zeke closed his eyes, hissing softly in approval as Lucifer rubbed against him. Lucifer covered Zeke's parted lips with his own and pressed down, sinking against the soft bed and that warm, hard body. This dominant position felt familiar to him, comfortable. Even though he was now no match for Zeke's demonic strength, in this position he could pretend, still feel like he had all the power and control.

Zeke squirmed beneath him, arching up, making noises of frustration as Lucifer kissed his throat, bit hard on his neck, knowing the bites would cause no pain and wondering what Zeke felt instead--anything? Nothing? Pain and pleasure could be so intimately linked, what did such a creature as Ezekiel feel, one who could experience no pain from mortals? Clearly Zeke felt _something_ from the way he responded to Lucifer's actions, how he turned his head to offer more of his neck for bites and kisses and the way he lifted his hips to meet Lucifer's hand as he reached down to stroke his erection.

Ezekiel had wasted little time giving Lucifer what he really wanted, and so neither did he. He moved down Zeke's body until his mouth was over the man's hard cock, over it and then engulfing it, getting it slick with his saliva. There was little taste to the inhuman, dead flesh, but it felt good enough, real enough, sliding against his lips, pressing against the back of his mouth. Zeke's pleasure seemed real enough, too, the way he groaned and twisted his fists into the bed sheets. Lucifer sucked harder, and took him deeper, even as time passed and his jaw began to ache. He tried to ignore the dull pain and concentrate on Zeke, on moving faster up and down the length of Zeke's cock and using one hand around the base, stroking it with a matching, building rhythm.

How would it feel, he wondered, to have Zeke _inside_ him--not just in his mouth but deep inside, fucking him...could he stand it? He trembled just thinking about it, just realizing the idea had formed in his mind in the first place. The thought frightened him, and he was shocked that he would even consider letting someone dominate and take him like that. He considered it again and something twisted inside of him, in the pit of his stomach, something sick with yearning. Closing his eyes and sliding his lips down that hard shaft, he could just begin to imagine it, and oh, yes, he wanted it. Was terrified that he wanted it, that he could feel himself getting aroused again from thinking about it, from knowing that he loved Zeke so much he would do that, do anything for him.

But now Zeke was coming, his body shaking and his hips rising up to try to thrust deeper inside, deep as he could into Lucifer's welcoming mouth. A pity, Lucifer thought, that no reward filled his mouth from his efforts, no salty, warm seed, for a dead man had none to offer. Still he tongued and sucked on Ezekiel until the last tremors of aftershocks passed, regretting only that it was over so quickly.

He let the softening cock slip from his lips and rested his head on Zeke's stomach. It felt nice, lying there, Zeke's hand lightly rubbing the back of his neck, running through his hair. He didn't want to disturb the moment, but after a time he had to voice his concerns. He couldn't wake up tomorrow to another day of Zeke having second thoughts and trying to run away from him.

"You surprise me, Ezekiel. Earlier I had the distinct impression that you weren't certain you wanted this."

"I wasn't. I'm still...this isn't easy for me to deal with."

"Because of who I am."

Zeke was slow to respond. "No. Because of...the things you've done--to me, to this entire world. I'm not sure _who_ you are, anymore. I don't think you are, either."

Lucifer wanted to protest, but the words didn't come fast enough. Ezekiel persisted, "The devil couldn't love a human, but you do. The devil wouldn't give up his kingdom to give a mortal another chance at redemption, but you did. And me, I'd never be here, like this, doing this with the devil. Not willingly. But here I am, because...you're not him. You've changed. Whoever you are, now...you're not what I thought I wanted, or needed, but...maybe I'm not who I thought I was, either."

"Does that frighten you?"

"Yeah. 'Course, so do lots of things right now. I don't..." Zeke trailed off, falling silent for a moment, and then with a sigh he finished, "I don't know how I'm going to do this. The rest of them, they're only going to get harder to catch, aren't they? I got some of the easy ones, sure, but even some of them nearly took me out."

"Don't underestimate yourself. You've survived two confrontations with Ash. Few of the others even come close to her strength. And you...you have power you don't even realize, yet. Accept that you've changed, that you're not the same Ezekiel Stone who died fifteen years ago, and then I can show you how to use the powers you have to defeat Ash--to defeat all of them."

"You mean the power of pure rage, hatred...what I had to use to take out Gilbert Jax."

"Mm."

"How can I use that without letting it take total control of me? Without ending up back in Hell once I've finished this damn mission?" Zeke paused for a long moment.

Lucifer said nothing, wanting the detective to figure it out for himself.

"That was the catch in this bargain we made, wasn't it? The only way to defeat them all would be to become just like them--filled with rage, anger, pure hatred. Which would eventually lead me back to being damned all over again."

"Well, that was what _I_ was betting on."

"You son of a bitch."

Lucifer laughed.

"I'm going to prove you were wrong."

That was the stubborn, determined Ezekiel Stone that Lucifer knew...and loved. He finally lifted his head from Zeke's stomach and crept up the bed, to lie beside the other man. His laughter died out, but he was still smiling when he said, "You just might, Ezekiel. And oddly enough, I think I'm beginning to hope that you will."

 _end_


End file.
